


Original Work

by Rose567



Category: Original Work
Genre: Coming of Age, F/F, F/M, No Fandom - Freeform, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:19:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25223014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose567/pseuds/Rose567
Summary: Allie lives alone with her deranged mother in a haunting mansion in the middle of a wealthy California neighborhood. Grace lives in a tiny house crammed with family members, reaching for an impossible dream. Both girls face their own trials in private until they are brought together by a crooked teacher and a cursed fortune. There's a famous violinist in there and a police chase at some point. Also drugs. A coming of age story about understanding differences and gaining new perspective.(All the characters and most of the places in this story are fictional)
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! This is my first time posting on AO3 so I might not be familiar with some things on the site. This is just a story I've had in my head for a while that I wanted to share. I'll be going chapter by chapter and I don't know how fast it will be updated. I'm always looking to improve my writing so constructive comments will be appreciated. Also i'll take title ideas because as you can see i currently don't have one. Please enjoy!

Allie tapped her foot against the metal leg of the school chair watching seconds tick by on the analogue clock. James stood directly beneath the clock wasting time. Grace sat in front of her, every molecule focused on their teacher. 

“… The price rises at least 1 percent every year and that’s just tuition. Room, board, books… it adds up, I know.” She could see the outline of Grace’s spine, saw her hands clenched on the desk. “why am I telling you this?” He licked his lips waiting for an answer that wouldn’t come. “To remind you to work hard. Don’t be an idiot.” She laughed. James was an idiot. An acceptable teacher, but in truth a shameless flatterer chasing a hedonistic lifestyle.

“This school is partnered with certain organizations that contribute to the education of select students…” he went on and she lost interest, wondering why he would bother with his pompous speech so close to the end of class. Most of her peers had already began to pack up drowning his words in a rustle of papers.

“Before you leave I would like to present the Tiernan scholarship to one of you.” He raised his voice attempting to be heard over the clamor which stopped gradually as the clarity of his words sank in. She paused. Any student that received the scholarship would accept it as an honor but no more than that. The money offered by the school was less than the cost of attendance. Most of St. Anselm's students were well off.

“Allie, you can come to the office next week to collect your certificate. The monetary component will be directly transferred to the proper accounts. Congratulations.” Her first reaction was one of confusion. Then a cold feeling of certainty wound itself through her body. She met James’ nervous glance and immediately averted her eyes. She felt she would be sick if she didn’t leave. As Allie stood up Grace turned around, her face white and strained. She followed Allie’s retreating form with her eyes.

Many of her classmates left the school in Cadillac's and Lincolns collected by guardians dressed in suits but no one came for her. In the upper-class neighborhood of Rathston, California the palaces that lined the streets boasted of excess with marble pillars and wraparound porches. It was sweltering even in early autumn. The itchy socks of the St. Anselm uniform stuck to Allie’s skin as she walked. 

The house was buried deep in the neighborhood. It came into view slowly as if revealing its secrets to her. It was enormous, far too big a space for only two to occupy. A cage of magnificent proportions. A rusted blue truck sat in the sweeping driveway looking grossly out of place among its surroundings. Allie gave it a wide berth as she made her way to the back patio of her mansion.

When she reached the door she found it hanging open. She pushed it and it swung inward silently. The lounge was in a disarray. Furniture was shoved to the side and she felt dried mud crumble under her feet. She heard the bark of a woman’s laugh echoing above her. As she tilted her head towards the ceiling a deeper voice answered. 

Taking in her surroundings with a new understanding, Allie walked quickly through the sumptuous lounge into the study. The antique record player situated on the ornate desk in the stuffy room was a ridiculous luxury. Allie stretched to reach the top shelf of the cupboard aligned with the record player. She grabbed the only record in the house, a rendition of The Tchiakovsky Violin Concerto. She carefully placed the record on the player and with a certain reverence put the needle over the disk.

A skilled violinist can make the instrument sound almost human. Years of practice can craft a technically perfect phrase. It takes special talent to imbue emotion into that phrase. Eric Tiernan was an excellent violinist. She had never seen him in concert. The sound of the full orchestra rose around her like the waves of an ocean drowning out any noise from above. she wished with all her soul to be somewhere else.

Gradually Allie heard heavy feet on the stairs. The door leading to the lounge swung open and then slammed shut. She reached to take the needle off the record. After a brief silence lighter feet descended slowly. Allie took a deep breath and walked through the now quiet house. 

She came upon her mother sitting at the head of an ancient mahogany table. As Allie stared down the long piece of furniture meant to seat twelve she took in the intimidating silhouette of Mrs. Gottman. Her mother was grandiose yet haggard and haunted with shining eyes and a lean, tall figure. Her presence was commanding even as the silk bathrobe she wore slipped down over a bony shoulder. 

Mrs. Gottman turned her tired eyes to her daughter. “Did he speak to you today?’ Allie responded to the sharp question in a measured voice. “he’s my teacher, of course we spoke.” “Don’t be sarcastic with me. You know what I mean. You know what always happens to me.” She knew what her mother wanted to hear. “It only happened one time, he shouldn’t have left you… you’re so beautiful.” Mrs. Gottman’s face tightened. She stood suddenly, her chair flying out from underneath her. She walked slowly down the length of the table. When she reached her daughter, she grabbed Allie’s hand in a vice-like grip. “Beauty runs in the family.” Allie remembered the money, the uncertainty in James’ eyes as if he had crossed the threshold of decency. As she looked over her mother’s shoulder Allie noticed the rusted truck was no longer obstructing her view of the front drive.

GRACE POV

Grace was furious, though She was too private a person to show it on her face. She quietly simmered as the beautiful girl behind her was awarded an amount of money that would have kept Grace in college for a year. For the blonde who rarely made good marks, that scholarship was a teardrop in an ocean of wealth. Allie was stupid but beautiful and rich.

She continued to feed her anger as she biked home from St. Anselm. She took in the view of the pristine dwellings of the youth she sat along side in her classes and wondered if any of them ever wanted for anything. As Grace approached her home, the houses became less grand. After biking for nearly an hour she reached her destination. As she pedaled furiously up her cracked drive she saw Mr. Sosa’s rusty blue truck swing into his house across from hers.

Her suspicion grew as she watched him step out of his truck still wearing his crisp button-up. He usually arrived far ahead of Grace given their disparity in transportation. The anger that she had carried throughout her ride rose up suddenly. She had spent enough time on the bottom to know the ladder could only be climbed by pushing others out of the way. She was the best in her class. If it was a true merit scholarship as the school maintained, the money should belong to her.

Grace hardened her resolve. Mr. Sosa was possibly the only other person at St. Anselm that knew what it was like to barely scrape by and he had betrayed her. She saw the way he looked at Allie, nervous and hopeful. Her worthless teacher must have done some rearranging of records to benefit his favorite and she was going to prove it.

The creaky door swung back on its hinges as Grace made her way through the house to her attic room. The noise added to the general chaos her large family created around her. Several younger siblings squabbled over toys as her mother and father bickered good naturedly in the kitchen. Grace paused when she recognized a missing beat in the revelry. She looked for her grandfather’s empty chair in the sitting room on her way up and remembered how his eyes used to crinkle when he smiled. He had always encouraged her. In her aspirations he had been a guide. If she concentrated, she could still feel his hand on her shoulder. She kept that thought in her mind as she climbed into bed. darkness fell through the neighborhood and the stars came out one by one. Slowly she drifted off to sleep. 

Some hours later she woke with a start to the sound of an engine backfiring loudly. She knew that engine. She rushed to her circular window and saw Mr. Sosa climb into his truck with a fat wad of cash stuffed in an envelope, clutched in his fist. She dove back from the window. That couldn’t be the scholarship money. It shouldn’t be in cash. Unless… Grace came to a decision in a split second. She ran down the stairs as quietly as possible. She made sure she had her phone with her. As soon as she bolted out the door she rushed to her bike and pedaled furiously after the taillights of Mr. Sosa’s truck.

ALLIE POV

Allie crept down the winding stair that connected the third floor to the second. She carried nothing with her as she hoped to pass unnoticed. The only sound to be heard was her own breathing. In the dim light it was easy to convince herself that the steady puffs of air came from another source. It was always unnerving when the darkness of night fell, leaving Allie alone in the mansion with her mother. She had the choice of three bedrooms. Recently she had taken to sleeping on the third floor. The bathroom on the floor below still contained most of her toiletries.

She came to the end of the flight of stairs and quietly pushed the door open, moving like a shadow through her own house. Carefully she put one foot down upon the luxurious rug and then another allowing the padding to muffle her footsteps. As she walked down the hall she noticed a door stood ajar. No light shone from the doorway but Allie still tread softly. When she came to the open door she peered in and jerked to a stop. She tried to halt all motion in her body starting with her facial expression and continuing to her feet nestled in the carpet. Her old room held an oblong full-body mirror that took up nearly the entire opposite wall. As she looked in the mirror she could see a body reflected in it that wasn’t her own.

Mrs. Gottman stood naked in front of her own reflection in Allie’s old room. The light of the moon penetrated the murky shadows only slightly allowing Allie to see the taut skin of her mother stretched over thin bones. Mrs. Gottman hardly noticed Allie’s shadowy form in the mirror as she leaned closer to stare into her own eyes. Allie saw a single tear trace its way down her face followed by another and another. Mrs. Gottman was capable of keeping up a facade for strangers. It was in solitude when cracks began to appear. 

Allie silently turned herself around and hurried back towards the stairs to keep from being discovered. She climbed quietly and when she reached her room she slid the small silver lock in place behind her. Allie had brought in a radio from her old room on the second floor. Although the reception was often spotty she had it tuned to the classical music station. She turned the radio on and a complicated violin solo filled the room. She let the music cleanse her of fright, slowed her breathing, and tried to force herself into sleep. At that moment her phone vibrated loudly on her nightstand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is so short! I wanted it to be longer but I was frustrated with myself for taking so long to write. Hopefully I will be able to put out chapters at a steady rate in the future :)

Allie’s eyes opened wide as saucers and she sat straight up disturbing the blankets around her. She held her body in that position trembling for a moment attempting to convince herself that she hadn’t heard her phone. The illusion lasted for a few more seconds and then it buzzed again. She took a deep breath and looked. When she saw his name on the notification she knew. Hoping against hope that her mother had passed into fitful sleep Allie again began the descent this time intending to reach the ground floor. The closer she came the hotter she felt. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck. There was an uncomfortable stickiness in the air, a combination of the California heat and her own nerves.

When she reached the front door she undid the bolts slowly so they didn’t creak. Inch by inch she nudged open the heavy wood to reveal James on the other side with one foot behind his back and a fat envelope in his right hand. His blue truck sat on her driveway once again, idling with the headlights on like a stain.

At the sight of him her nervousness vanished, replaced by hot anger. “Maybe you’ve convinced yourself what you’re trying to do is honorable but I know you’re nothing more than a con-man… a really bad one.” He held out the envelope to her with an ashamed grimace. “You have every right to be hostile. But you might find I’m different than you’d like to believe. I know nothing goes to you. She’s told me. So here it’s yours. Hide it somewhere and perhaps we can be closer to one another in the future.” He held the money out towards her as a diplomatic gesture, his doubt washed away by a surge of self-righteousness. Allie reached forward and snatched the envelope out of his fingers. “I’ll take it, but you’ll get nothing from me, and nothing from her.” James watched her sadly. “Then we won’t get along.” “Do you still think you’re in control of this situation? If my mother told you nothing goes to me, she must have told you why. You’ve spent enough time in bed with her to SEE why!” “Your mother is… eccentric.” “Eccentric!” Allie laughed quietly “She’s insane! She’ll sit on that fortune until it kills her and neither me nor you will get a single cent!” James faltered briefly sensing sincerity in Allie’s voice. “you hope to wait until she dies, don’t you? Well I’d like to see you endure her for that long. I hope you haven’t convinced yourself you love her.”

James brought his face closer to the doorway, bristling in indignation. “I do. And she loves me!” “She loves to be flattered. She loves when you call her beautiful, ravishing, lovely, and all that. As soon as she gets tired of you she’ll run to the next. And you… you love her money. You deserve each other.” “than why would you stand in my way?” “for the sake of her memory.” “she’s not dead yet!” “she might as well be.”

As the argument became more passionate, Allie raised her voice forgetting her initial reason for secrecy. Both parties had begun to ignore their surroundings. “I want the money back.” James sullenly demanded. Allie laughed in his face. “Idiot! You can’t take it back now that you know I won’t play nice with you. You’re a horrible schemer and you’d make a horrible step-father.”

“WHORE” The screeching voice echoed throughout the house cutting off the conversation completely. Allie turned away from James so quick it made her head spin and her worst fears were confirmed. 

Mrs. Gottman stood at the opposite end of the room quivering in anger and despair. Her body swayed and shook like a massive tree caught in a storm. The white bathrobe she wore often combined with hair wild from sleeping gave her the appearance of a mad ghost. She rushed at her daughter and seized Allie’s hair by the roots. “I knew he wanted you.” Spittle sprayed from her mouth and her wide eyes appraised the pair standing at the doorway. 

As James watched the scene unfold he saw as if for the first time the dark circles under Mrs. Gottman’s eyes. He saw her long yellow fingernails and ropy hair. He saw her truly as their eyes met and Allie’s mother recognized her mistake. 

She seemed to shrink as she released Allie’s hair from her clutching hands. Her face slowly changed from fury to hopeless grief and it seemed to both James and Allie that they looked upon an old and weary woman. Mrs. Gottman staggered back against the ornate stairwell. 

The three of them stood in a triangle breathing heavily. They were all shocked by the outburst even Allie’s mother herself. In that split second of confusion Allie lunged forward and slammed her shoulder against the gaudy front door widening it enough to squeeze through.

James gave a startled yelp and tried in vain to reclaim the money still clutched in Allie’s fist. By the time he turned his body around she was already sprinting down the long driveway blonde hair streaming behind her. When she reached the run-down blue truck she jerked the handle to open the door. James could only watch frantically as she stomped on the pedals putting his vehicle into reverse. She left deep tire prints in the front lawn and never looked back as she righted his truck and drove away.

James had only managed to scramble halfway down the Gottman’s elegant driveway in the time it had taken Allie to make her escape. As he stared incredulously at the quickly disappearing taillights, he heard Mrs. Gottman laughing inside the house.

GRACE POV

Grace quickly lost track of the blue truck. The silhouette became smaller and gradually faded into the blackness surrounding her. None of that mattered she knew where he was headed. Her lungs ached as she gasped for air and her legs cramped up from pedaling vigorously but Grace was determined. Her phone was tucked safely into her back pocket. As she rode, she paid careful attention to the feeling of it always making sure it was there. If she were to lose it now any chance of gathering the evidence of Mr. Sosa’s actions would be destroyed and her hope lost. It was a feeble plan born of jealousy and desperation. She would rather waste effort in a futile scramble with small chance of success than do nothing.

The hot wind pushed her brown hair out of her sweaty face. Streetlights illuminated carefully tended gardens side by side with tangled weeds. The houses rushed by gradually getting larger. Grace lost herself to the physical experience choosing to ignore her pounding head and racing thoughts. She wondered if it wouldn’t be better to grab the money from Mr. Sosa’s hands as he bestowed it upon his lover. Maybe that would be easier than showing proof of his pandering to the school board. It would certainly be more satisfying. She forced herself onward.

After struggling in the dark for what seemed like hours Grace felt a slight dragging in her pace. She paid no mind to it until she heard a pop, felt her body shift and discovered she could not ride any further. She hopped off the bike breathing heavily and ran her hands along the back tire, quickly discovering that it was flat. She checked once more to make sure her phone was safely in her back pocket and began to pull her ruined transportation across the street to inspect it in the light of a nearby streetlamp.

The panic began to set in as Grace quickly realized there was no possible way to continue her pursuit. Her heart beat in her chest and the blood rushed through her head causing a roaring in her ears. The roaring echoed all around her until it grew unbearably loud. It was accompanied by a blinding light. Grace whipped around and saw Mr. Sosa’s blue truck bearing down on her. The driver looked much smaller than her teacher. Her last thought before impact, strangely was of Allie.


End file.
